


The Wish

by ZaiaFantasy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics 1998), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Loose comic canon, Post Season 7, Secret Relationship, Secret sexy times, Slayer Army, Vampire Slayer(s), Wishes, slayer baby?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:53:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29334849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaiaFantasy/pseuds/ZaiaFantasy
Summary: For her birthday Giles offers Faith one wish. They are both pulled into it and experience something they never could have imagined. How do they deal with the aftermath of a beautiful, temporary, life?
Relationships: Faith Lehane/Rupert Giles, Rupert Giles/Faith Lehane
Kudos: 3





	1. A Life Unexpected

“Faith?”

He caught her eye and nodded toward the door on his left that he ducked through shortly after as the Scoobies filed out the front. She followed after him with a quirk of her eyebrow, wondering what on Earth he could want, risking them being caught in the morning. They were rarely ever alone in the house, the Scoobies and newbies around them constantly. They had to be careful and time things just so so that they didn’t get caught at...whatever it was they were doing. She smiled, mildly impressed. They were alone, but that was only for now. Who knew when someone might come home to catch them?

Stepping through the door she saw him standing by a table, his back to her.

“You realize we could be seen or heard here, right? I have to say, it’s impressively kinky of you, G.”

He turned, catching her cheek in his hand as she slipped her arms around him, indulging in a passionate kiss. She turned and propped herself on the table, wrapping her legs around his waist. If he wasn’t quick he would be lost to her and the chances of them being caught in a compromising position vastly improved. The house never stayed empty for long, if ever, and if the others knew the Watcher and Slayer had become lovers, well, he didn’t think it would go over well. Some secrets had become necessary, if only for privacy’s sake.

He broke away from her, gently disengaging from her hold.

“I know you don’t like anyone making mention of your birthday, Faith, but I got you something to mark the occasion.”

He motioned to the small box on the table, carved wood with a hinged lid no larger than two decks of playing cards stacked on top of one another. Inside was lined with velvet and when she opened the lid she saw white light pouring out of the crease. Letting the lid drop, she looked up at him, confused.

“It’s a charm,” he explained. “A very specific, very complicated spell. It will take you out of time and space and grant one wish for twenty-four hours. Anything you like in the world, you will have for that time alone. When it’s finished you’ll return to this moment with the memory of it.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything you like. If you want to vacation in some exotic place, relive a fond memory, be rich as the Queen. It’s yours. Just take up that charm and think of it.”

“You shouldn’t have done this, Giles.”

“I think I should like to hear you call me Rupert, at least when we are alone.”

“You still shouldn’t have.”

“You bring me such joy, Faith. I can’t help but want to give you the whole world in return.”

“But this kind of magic doesn’t come cheap; I know it doesn’t.”

“What it took I paid, willingly. Stop fretting about me. I would rather see you happy than worry about my own pains.”

She took the jewel from the box and held it in her hand. Light still poured from it, near blinding, but she closed her eyes and slipped her hand in his before putting the gem to her heart. Light flashed around her, around them both.

Giles woke up first. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, sunlight streaming in through the windows on either side of the bed. At the moment he was playing the role of the big spoon, recognizing Faith from the spill of her hair and the curve of her body he’d memorized a hundred times in secret. They both seemed to be naked. He turned and groped for his glasses, only to realize that he didn’t need them and the hand that was doing the searching was much younger than it had been the last time he saw it. Lifting the blanket slightly he saw many things were younger than he had last seen them and what was more bewildering was that there was a dog lying on the end of the bed, looking at him placidly with small thumps of its tail.

Faith woke, turning, starting as she saw who it was and the changes that had been made. He saw the wink of a ring on a very important finger and looked down to find its match on his own hand. He held it up silently before nodding to the dog watching them both. She sat up, gathering the bedclothes around her before looking around the bedroom. He recognized it as his family townhouse in London. She clearly did not.

“Mommy!”

They both looked to the door as a small girl, no more than three or four years old, came rushing through it, climbing onto the bed to curl against a bewildered Slayer. With wide eyes and a dropped jaw the slayer knew nothing of what to do as the little girl hugged her good morning; her hands flailed a bit by her sides. The child was remarkable. He recognized her mother’s hair, his eyes, her lips and his jawline. She hugged one first and then turned to him, wrapping her arms around him as silent tears streaked down Faith’s cheeks.

“Good morning, angel,” he managed to choke out, wholly bewildered. She’d moved on to the dog who quickly rolled over and exposed her belly, whining happily as she was scritched and pet. He enjoyed the scene for a moment, trying to catch his lover’s hand for some reassurance. She was quick to brush the tears away but not in time for the little girl not to notice them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine; I promise I’m ok.” He knew she was not by her tone but the child was convinced. He leaned forward, keeping himself fully covered, and set her down beside the bed.

“Why don’t you go play for a few minutes and let your mum and I talk? We’ll come get you soon.”

She nodded, racing toward the door. “C’mon Lady!”

The pup jumped down and followed with a joyful yip or two. He watched them go before turning his attention to his shaking lover. Her eyes were open wide and her features drawn, staring at the doorway the little girl had just disappeared through. Her voice, when she managed to speak, shook.

“I didn’t, I don’t, take it back. I take it back!”

“This is what you wished for?”

“No! I mean, I thought about a lot of things but when this popped into my head it was like it was all I could think about and the wish chose it.”

“It chose it because it was a true wish.”

“I can’t do this. Take it back, Rupert. God, she’s so real! All of this, it’s…”

He nodded, wondering how he came to be here as well, when as far as he knew the wish was only meant for one person. He squeezed her hand, rubbing his other hand up and down her back reassuringly.

“It’s only twenty-four hours. You can last that long, can’t you? We’ll just play along.”

“She’s beautiful,” she managed, a sob coming in on the tail end of the statement. He gathered her in his arms and whispered soft, soothing words, holding her. The hard truth was that he was every bit as shaken up by all this as she was. In his heart of hearts it was a fond wish, but one he had never dared allow himself to dwell on before. Now it had been made flesh before his eyes and he was both fascinated, gratified, and horrified by the prospect. He held her as she sobbed against him, letting the shock wear off while trying to steady himself at the same time. She quieted after a while while he soothed her. 

“We don’t even know her name.”

“Charity.” He did, it came to him with certainty. “My suggestion, most likely, continuing with the virtues. Faith, Hope, Charity and all that.”

“Daddy!” A small, sweet voice echoed down the hallway from one of the other bedrooms. His heart twisted a little, a bittersweet feeling washing over him like a flood. She was right, it felt entirely too real. This could be their lives, could have been his life if he had allowed himself to choose it. After Jenny died such thoughts had been put firmly on a shelf until the dark haired beauty next to him climbed under his skin and into his heart in a rather surprising way. 

Admittedly, he had a type. 

“Just a moment, dearest!” He looked at his presumed wife. “I can’t cancel the magic once manifested. The only way out is through.”

He climbed out of bed, shutting the door so they could get dressed. He moved to the dresser as she moved to the closet. The clothes she found were in her vein, though toned down a bit. Pulling out the best match for her mood she turned to see everything else laying on the bed that she would need. His face fell a bit when he slid open his side of the closet. There were plenty of pairs of jeans inside with a few pairs of slacks and no tweed. Not one stitch of it. He gave Faith a dismayed look which got a smirk in response. He pulled out a pair of slacks and a polo type shirt he wasn’t sure he liked the look of. He would have gone for a sweater if not for the strong sunshine pouring in through the window. She chuckled.

“You’re not fifty anymore, G.”

“You look like a soccer mom,” he countered, gratifying in the sharp gasp and look of horror he got in response.

She immediately left the room, seeing Charity in the hall playing with the dog. “Are you hungry, kid?”

Together they moved downstairs with him trailing behind. A picture on their bedside table caught his eye and in wonder he picked it up. It appeared to be of their wedding day. She was swept up into his arms, cradled to him, her dress a mass of white silk and tulle that fit all of her curves to perfection and she had a wide grin, like she was laughing. His face was an echo of that same emotion, unfettered adoration plain as he held her. He touched the plane of glass softly, carrying it with him downstairs. He found his two ladies in the kitchen, Faith looking like she had no idea what she was doing in there. He set the frame on the table.

“Hey!” She spotted him. “Don’t you want your dad to make you breakfast instead?”

“Daddy doesn’t cook!”

He sputtered. “I beg your pardon? I can manage breakfast, I think.”

“Your eggs are crunchy,” she replied.

Oh, well. He shook his head. “How about we go out for a nice non-crunchy breakfast then? I know somewhere nearby.”

“Can I get pancakes?”

“You can have pancakes, if that’s what you want.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“Even with chocolate chips. Go get your shoes and put them on and we’ll go, alright?”

He followed his daughter to the hallway. She was sitting on a bench with her shoes on, laces dangling, with more of their shoes in the cubbies underneath. He knelt down without being asked and took the laces in his hands.

“Bunny ears. He goes around the tree, over the log and into his den.” He worked as he spoke, pulling it tight when he was finished.

“You’ve never showed me that before!” She seemed delighted, drawing a smile to his lips. “Show me again!”

“I haven’t? That’s how my mother taught me.” He did the same with his second shoe, reciting the little chant as he worked. When he was done he undid the lace. “Now you try.”

She picked up her laces as she’d been shown, speaking quietly as she tried to tie her own shoes. When she pulled one of the laces was pulled through and she frowned. He patiently undid them again and smiled encouragingly at her. Without trying the little girl was charming, making his heart swell with true fatherly pride. 

“Try it again, darling, you’ll get it.”

The second time her loops were large but she managed to succeed, beaming at him for it. It was worth the world to see that smile and he gathered her up into his arms. Picking her up, he planted a kiss on her cheek, embracing his role. 

“That’s brilliant! Very good, darling. Now, I’ll go check on your mum, shall I?”

He went back to the kitchen and found her sitting at the table, the photograph in her hands. The realism of the wish was taking stronger hold. The longer they were awake the more memories of a past they’d never had flooded him, convincing him of its sincerity. He remembered taking that picture, and of the dates he took her on before. He remembered being knelt under a tree in the park, asking her to marry him and the miraculous bubble of unadulterated joy when she said yes. He remembered the night she told him he was going to be a father and the subsequent months of mood swings, cravings, and some of the best lovemaking he’d ever experienced. By the look in her eyes he could tell she was thinking nearly the same thing, remembering things that hadn’t really ever happened.

“We’re ready to go, if you are.”

“It feels so real.”

“It was meant to.”

She got up and wrapped her arms around him, kissing him as if she’d never really kissed him before. He surrendered to it willingly, eagerly seeking her lips in return. He realized at once how much he loved her, even without the wish to shed light on it. All these months of sneaking, of hot, quick carnal pleasures, months of training, of talking, of seeing how she had grown as she led the new Slayers alongside her former rival, months of watching the woman she was up close and from afar - he had fallen for her entirely. 

“Ewww!”

They both turned to see their child watching them, Lady wriggling nearby, happy to be included. It was clear the two of them were thick as thieves. Faith laughed, shaking her head. She moved and swung her into the air, catching her and somehow knowing to settle her on her hip. She was almost too big for it, but Slayer strength helped. They were out the door and he herded them up the street. She finally recognized London once they were out in the city.

“I would have thought we’d settle in Boston.”

“Boston? I can’t imagine. Besides, we’re in my family home. I was raised in that house.”

The brownstone townhouse receding behind them was his childhood home. He grew up within those walls. The gardens were his refuge and he spent hours playing among his mother’s flowerbeds. His father’s study was filled with books he’d read a hundred times or more, more often than not curled up with a book in his favorite chair in evening hours. Every corner of that house was filled with memories for him. They’d made changes, of course, to modernize the place and prepare for their own child but at its core it was his home through and through. 

She let Charity down to walk hand in hand with them, content as anything to be with her parents. She hummed a happy song that sounded suspiciously familiar.

“That’s a lovely tune. Where did you learn it?” Had he taught her? Was she musically inclined like her father?

“Auntie Buffy taught it to me.”

“Auntie Buffy?” Faith nearly choked on the words. This had to be a fantasy; there was no way the blond would ever accept anything like this.

“Yeah. I can’t wait until she comes to visit for my birthday next month. Her, Auntie Dawn, Auntie Willow, and Uncle Xander. We’re going to go play with the horses.”

“The horses?”

“The cottage in Bath I suspect; I have horses there. My family used to holiday there in the summer and on special occasions. It’s logical I’d carry on the tradition.”

He smiled to think of teaching his daughter to ride a horse and showing her the beautiful countryside. He’d cherished his summers on the estate disappearing at dawn to reappear at dusk disheveled and starving. He wanted the same for his daughter.

He pushed open the door to a diner he knew and used to frequent as a teenager, before his rebellious phase. The waitress spotted them and smiled and Faith noticed she seemed to recognize them. 

“Your usual table is open. Go ahead and have a seat. I’ll be right there.”

Charity led the way to a small table in the corner, out of the way, and climbed into the booth alongside her parents. When the waitress returned she brought tea, setting it in front of Giles, strong smelling coffee for Faith and what appeared to be apple juice in a covered cup with a straw for the little girl.

“Pancakes today, sweetheart?”

“Yes! With chocolate chips. Daddy said I could have some!”

She flicked her eyes to him briefly and got a nod so she wrote it down.

“I’ll stick to coffee,” Faith offered.

That didn’t seem right. “We both usually get the full breakfast, don’t we darling?”

“That, then.” She shrugged. “Whatever my usual is.”

“The usual all around, I think.” He gave the menus back to the waitress, unopened, and gave her a smile.

He watched the two girls across the table from him, studying how much they looked alike. It was impossible to miss, a beautiful consequence of genetics. He had always hoped that if he had children they would take more after their mother. Thankfully Charity did in all of the best ways. She was sitting next to him and when his eyes raised he saw Faith looking at her with the same intensity. No doubt she saw all the subtle beauty in her, a perfect commingling of the both of them.

“What would you like most to do today, my darlings?”

“You said you’d take me to the library, Daddy! Please?”

He nearly choked on his tea. “The library?”

Faith laughed, loud and long and joyful. “She’s yours, alright.”

There was no denying it and he turned beet red, trying to will away the color on his face.

“We can go to the library tomorrow. How about we go to the zoo today and please your mum? Doesn’t that sound nice? She doesn’t like the library as much as we do.”

“G, I don’t mind.”

He gave her a loving smile. “I know you don’t. All the same, I think the zoo might be more fun as a family.”

“Is that what you want to do, mommy?”

“It sounds good to me.”

That launched the little girl into an immediate conversation about what animals she wanted to see, which ones she liked and why, and how much she wanted a stuffed tiger to take home as a souvenir. She didn’t stop the whole way through breakfast, fitting bites between her sentences. The slayer barely ate, watching her with an amused expression. She was certainly her father’s daughter for liking to talk as well. Once she was set on a topic she could talk for hours if left uninterrupted. Listening, she found she didn’t mind it. Giles paid the bill and they left, catching a taxi across town to the zoo. He paid their way inside, taking each lady in one of his hands to lead along the paths.

“I want to see the tigers first!”

“Alright, alright.” He watched her skipping ahead of them, enchanted, holding his wife’s hand like a snapshot out of some idyllic magazine from the fifties.

“Faith?”

“Hm?” Her eyes were watching her daughter like a hawk, Slayer instincts trained on her rather than on demons.

“Are you alright, dove?”

“I don’t know. I’m afraid to touch her, like I’ll break her or something. She’s so much like you! I keep finding things about her that remind me of us. Her eyes...” She shook her head, frowning. “Those are your eyes but, but my face. My cheeks. My hands. My hair. My nose.”

She’d never had a real mother of her own and had no idea how to try to be one now, especially in just a day. It terrified her in a way no demon ever could. She tried not to think of the hurled, drunken insults that greeted her when she came home from school each day or the blame of ruining her mother’s life too often to not believe. She refused to think of having to steal for her meals when her mother was passed out drunk in her bedroom or with the boyfriend of the week. She wasn’t that person but she still carried the stain of her even now, even here.

“You’ve been brilliant with her so far.”

“I don’t know how.”

They usually didn’t talk about her. He had a file he read once a long time ago when she was assigned to Sunnydale but the words on the page in no way conveyed the horror or trauma she’d lived through. Family was not to be trusted. She was not to be trusted around it. Love and she were natural enemies from the first and yet here, now, she was filling the role with terrifying ease. She shrugged, hoping the conversation would end. It did as soon as their daughter began to sprint toward a large exhibit. Jogging, she caught up to her as they reached the big cat enclosure.

The tigers were with the other big cats in a small area on the back side of the park. The main enclosure mimicked their natural environment but there was also a den for them, paned by thick glass. There was a large tiger stretched out inside the cavern and Charity soon had her hands pressed against the glass, a delighted look on her face. He hung back as Faith swooped her into the air, holding her higher so she could have a better look. She pointed to the great cat, listening to the excited rush of words and sharing what few things she knew about the animal that her daughter did not.

“Your dad could tell you more, I’m sure.” They both turned and caught him with a dopey expression, entranced by the sight of the two of them together, unaware he’d been talked about.

“What? Oh, yes, whatever you like, darling.”

“Daddy, can I have a kitty of my own?”

He blanched, knowing he had never been good with animals. It was a moot point no matter how he answered. Faith rescued him by answering first.

“Maybe for your birthday, if that’s what you’re wishing for.”

“It is! I want a pretty orange and black kitty and I can name him Tiger and he’ll be best friends with Lady!”

“We might need an animal permit before too long if we have all the pets you want,” he commented offhandedly, smiling. He found he didn’t mind the idea. “But you’ll have to feed it and love it and be every bit as good to it as you are to Lady.”

“I promise!” She beamed. “I really promise!”

“We’ll see.”

He and Faith shared a look and knew if she asked for a pony and rode it through the house they were apt to find it charming, at least at the moment. They worked their way slowly through the zoo starting at one end of it and working their way around, ending their day at the aquarium. By then her gait was slower and her eyes drooped every so often. He scooped her up and cradled her to him, walking with his wife and enjoying the tranquility of the fish swimming in their large tanks. Her head was cradled against his shoulder, a familiar position. For a portion of her infancy she would only sleep that way, on him, and woe betide anyone that tried to lay her down. He was well prepared for sleepless nights pacing with her across the living room to keep her sleeping and give her exhausted mother a break.

“She’s asleep,” Faith told him.

“I know.”

“The zoo is closing soon.”

“I know,” he responded softly. “Five more minutes.”

They both knew why so she didn’t say another word. She let him have his time in the dimly lit aquarium, holding their child. No longer could they think of this as a dream, as she’d tried to convince herself it was in the beginning. It was, she knew that it was, but it felt so real that fact faded from mind. They stood in front of a large circular tank watching brightly colored tropical fish swim around in endless circles.

“I think this is the point where I’d tell you that I think it’s time to have another.” He admitted softly.

“I wouldn’t have argued.”

He slipped a hand in hers and squeezed it before returning to support Charity. He remained silent for a few minutes more, holding his position as he stared into the tank. Finally he turned and kissed her cheek, heading back toward the door. Their daughter woke up as he hailed a taxi, tucking them all into the back seat. Faith took her and held her while she woke up slowly, letting her lean against her body.

“Hey. Looks like you wore yourself out, kid.”

“I’m not tired!” She complained, a little too loudly with a yawn to punctuate.

“I know you’re not but we’re gonna go home and watch some movies and cuddle with Lady, how does that sound?”

“Are you sure today isn’t my birthday?”

“I’m sure.” The brunette leaned down to kiss the top of her head. “But we can still have a nice night and pretend it is, can’t we?”

“Can I have ice cream?”

“Not without some dinner.”

“Can Lady have some ice cream?”

“Not a chance, kid. Dogs don’t eat ice cream.”

They pulled up to the townhouse and she carried her toward the door. She managed a quick dinner of leftovers, thanking God she didn’t have to try to cook. She could, a little, but bachelorette cuisine was always on the menu. Soon enough they were all tucked into the couch: Charity half strewn over Giles, the dog half strewn over Faith, watching Disney movies he found on DVD. Before the first song she was out like a light again, making sleepy sounds every so often. He stroked her back gently, his eyes misting somewhat as he watched her more than the film.

“We should tuck her into bed.”

“I don’t want to.”

That tone broke his heart. The way she looked at him helplessly made sure it was complete but for it he had no remedy. He shook his head, knowing there was nothing to do about it now. He picked her up and took her into her bedroom, letting Faith change her into pajamas before tucking her in. He watched Faith bend over her to kiss her forehead. It felt like intrusion to see how she looked at her, how she touched her cheek and swept her hair from her face.

“I love you,” she whispered. “You will never know how much.”

Their pup jumped up onto her bed and curled next to her. The little girl immediately reached out to tug her close, still mostly asleep, and the dog allowed herself to be held like a teddy bear, tolerating it as if she was used to the practice. He took the slayer from the room and half shut the door, retreating to their own private space. Once the door was closed she lost it, sobbing hard and he embraced her immediately. He couldn’t even try to console her because the same tears she was crying were falling from his eyes as well. When he created the charm he couldn’t have imagined anything this powerful, beautiful, and heartbreaking.

“I don’t want to go back. Rupert, please don’t make me go back. I can’t leave her. I don’t want to leave her. It’s so real, God, please don’t make me go back!”

He kissed her cheeks, tasting her tears and cupping her face in his hands before pressing her close. “I would do anything in my power to keep us here. You know I would but I can’t.”

Not just because people were counting on them and there was an entire life they’d be abandoning for this one. He wanted to stay as well, but there were parts of him saying that even if he could manage the magic, they couldn’t do it. This wasn’t real and they both knew it. Instead, he guided her toward their bed and got them off their feet, holding her while she cried. “If I had known what would happen, I would never have created that gem…I thought you’d like a nice time as a princess or a day in in Maui or something. I couldn’t have guessed that you would…”

“You’re here, too. You’re not supposed to be but you are. Why are you here?”

“I suppose because we were touching when you made your wish. Perhaps because this is something I’ve wished for as well. Perhaps that’s why the magic chose it. We were in accord.”

“You have?”

“All my life. I wondered what it would be like to have a family of my own. It seemed absurd the older I got, and then with an active Slayer, after Jenny, but somewhere in the back of my mind I must still wish for it.” He paused, frowning slightly. “You wished me younger.”

She nodded, sniffing a little in the absence of tears. She hesitated before she answered. “I don’t like the idea of you being gone.”

She looked at him seriously, searching his face for something, he couldn’t guess what, before continuing. “If you were my age, we’d have the same amount of time, maybe.”

“My age bothers you?” It was beginning to sound like he wasn’t alone in wanting more from their midnight trysts.

“No! Not really.” She frowned. “Maybe a little, but not why you think. It’s like I said, I just don’t like the idea of life without you in it.”

“I’m in love with you, Faith.” Perhaps it had always been obvious but he felt the need to finally speak the words aloud. They didn’t need to dwell in indistinct words anymore. “I think I have been for a long while now. I didn’t need the wish to realize it, but I did need it to make me bold enough to speak the words.”

To his amazement she answered. “I love you, too.”

“I don’t want to keep our relationship secret anymore. If this is something you want, I swear I’ll do whatever I can to give it to you.”

She expected an answer that never came. He watched her as she looked down at the wood flooring, her hand fidgeting that he knew meant she was nervous and didn’t want to show it. 

“It’s too dangerous.” She concluded softly, “Today I didn’t think about vampires once. No demons, no Apocalypses. If I tried to have this in the real world someone would end up getting killed. I never felt anything like that before and it wasn’t bad, but I know I can’t be that. I’m not a mom; I’m a Slayer. I can’t give up the calling. The world needs me.”

“Maybe you can be both. Buffy’s there to take up the slack. The new Slayers are getting stronger every day. Even if we were to continue on, we could take time and try for-”

Her eyes flashed and she didn’t let him continue. Tears were in her tone, but were not falling this time. Her head dropped, unable to look him in the eye. 

“It’s nice to dream, but it’s not gonna happen. What do I know about being a mom anyway? Mine wasn’t exactly mother of the year. We don’t talk about it, but I’d only fuck her up in the long run like my mom did to me.”

He grimaced. “Yes, I read your file. It’s awful the things you went through.” He picked up her chin, nuzzling her lightly. “But you were extraordinary with her. You have sure instincts. I wish you would trust them.”

“I’m a killer, Rupert! I hurt everyone I get close to. I’d hurt her, too, and I can’t...I can’t do that. To you, either.”

“Faith, I -”

The light flashed, making her close her eyes. When she opened them again she was propped on the table, her legs around his waist. Tensing, she almost hoped for that joyful sound to echo through the room and for all of that to have been real, but nothing came. Looking down at her hand the remains of the charm had gone dull and grey, used of all its power. She looked up to find him watching her. He frowned. She quickly pulled away from him and stepped onto the ground, the solid flooring under her feet an anchor to reality.

“It still seems so real, doesn’t it?” He ventured softly, running a hand through his hair.

“I keep expecting to hear her calling but she’s not gonna.”

Tears clouded her eyes that she refused to let fall, looking away from him so that he wouldn’t see, not that he couldn’t have guessed. He backed up two steps, giving her space.

“I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry nonetheless.”

“You lost just as much as I did.”

“I promise I’ll find a way to make this right.”

“There isn’t making this right. There’s just,” she growled, frustrated as a caged animal. “There’s just living with it.”

He moved to hold her and she shied away, holding up her hands. “I can’t.”

“Alright. I’ll see you tonight?”

“Not tonight. I think I’m gonna go blow off some steam tonight.”

“By yourself? That’s not very wise.”

“I’ll be fine. You know me; I’m five by five. Have Xander cover my training, will you? He’s in security with Willow tonight. I doubt we’ll need both of them for the upgrades. She’s the computer whiz.”

She hadn’t said that in ages. He winced, though he couldn’t say anything against it. If he did, he would only manage to push her further away. As she left the room his heart sank along with his expression and he let out a deep sigh that echoed.


	2. The Aftermath

“Giles, what’s with the bad face?”

“Hm?”

“Your face is sour. What’s going on?”

He didn’t know how long he’d been lost in his own thoughts or how long she’d been standing there watching him. A glance at the clock told him a few hours had passed. He straightened himself up and brushed his hands down the jacket he’d been wearing. He cleared his throat, raking his fingers through his hair. Out of habit he pushed his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and looked at his slayer with tired eyes. The box with the used wish was still on the table beside him, the only evidence he had of what happened. He picked it up, holding it lightly as he considered his answer.

“I’ve been sleeping with Faith.”

“What?” Buffy’s nose wrinkled, her head tilted to the side like a puppy trying to understand the command it's been given. “What do you mean you’ve been sleeping with Faith? When? Where?” Her hands dropped to her sides. “Why?”

“I’m in love with her.”

She didn’t say anything and he let her absorb the news in her own time. There was no use denying it if they wanted to step out of the shadows. He wasn’t going to back down, not about this, not after what they’d just experienced. Determined, he raised up and looked the blond in the eye, doing his best to look resolute and sincere.

“It started shortly after we arrived here. It was an accident, nothing serious, at first. The longer we, ah, we went on the more I realized what a beautiful spirit she has. I love her. I want to be with her, if she’ll have me.”

“What am I supposed to say to this, Giles?”

“I’m not looking for your permission but I will accept your support.” He quieted and cast a glance to the side, wondering if he should say anything. He did, quietly. “She’s worried that pursuing a life with me means she’ll let the world down, not being a Slayer.”

“What do you think?”

She moved to the armchair and sat down, thinking that being off of her feet was better than being on them at the moment. He came and sat down near her, bringing the bottle of scotch with him. He didn’t immediately pour himself a drink but he did keep the bottle close in case he needed it. 

“I think that she needs life beyond battle. I think it might do her good to be able to flourish in love. I think she makes a beautiful mother.”

“OH MY GOD SHE’S PREGNANT?”

“Oh!” He blushed bright red immediately, shaking his head. “No. No, she’s not pregnant. There are still some useful bits I can do with magic but...well.”

He explained her birthday and the wish and what they both experienced in the blink of an eye for the rest of the gang. He explained it in detail, sharing his feelings along with the events as they happened. He couldn’t keep the emotion from his tone, anyway, describing their child. In the end he did pour himself a stiff drink, pulling from it several times in order to finish their story. When he was done he looked down, shuddering as he wished to see Charity running through the door to greet him.

“No matter how far we’ve come she still thinks herself a monster.”

“Giles I’m still on the other side of wigged here. I’m not an expert or anything, but I think you give her time. Space.”

He looked up sharply, seeing the logic in her words but wishing the answer had been different all the same. There was so much more nuance to their affair than he’d been able to explain but, through it all, women continued to be a bafflement to him. He had to cede to her wisdom in this.

“If I wanted to retire?” He ventured.

“We need you. There’s no Council anymore. We have a hundred Slayers and exactly one Watcher. Giles, we need you.”

Yes, as it had been his whole life - duty over the self. She had a point and he knew it. Both of his Slayers did in their own ways. He was training others to fill his role, working to reestablish the Council and start a new generation of Watchers with better policies. They were nearer to an army than they had been before and needs must change with the times. He knew it and relished his role but balked at the black and white nature of everything. Hadn’t his father raised children while a watcher and his grandmother before that? 

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to be alone. Incidentally, ah, Faith asked to have Xander cover her training tonight. I doubt she’ll be home before daylight.”

“He’ll be thrilled.” She deadpanned back to him, imagining how bruised the training would make him. “What are you going to be doing? Weren’t you in research tonight?”

“I was supposed to be but I doubt I’d get a single thing done. It’s better not to waste the time or resources. Andrew could, his Latin is getting passable.”

“If there’s an emergency I’ll call you.”

“It can wait until morning.” He paused, shook his head. “Yes, call me.”

He wandered into the hall and drank more than he had in quite a long time. No stranger to being intoxicated he wandered the halls of the complex without a real destination. It was like he was possessed by someone on auto pilot, barely speaking to the people that passed him that cared to make small talk or ask questions. Hell, he couldn’t name a single face he’d encountered in the hallway. He found himself in his office, sitting down at his desk. His head felt about two sizes two small and he held it in his hands. 

\---

“G, I guess it’s you and me training tonight.”

He looked up at the Slayer, frowning. This whole schedule thing was becoming a bit overwhelming. He sometimes felt he needed several clones of himself just to keep up. Folding his hands in front of him he paused a moment. He remembered now. Buffy was off patrolling with a group so it was on her to keep up with her training tonight.

“Yes, I suppose it is. Shall we to the training room?”

The complex was larger than he was used to, more like a military base than anywhere a person actually lived. He kept his flat in the city but rarely stayed there. There was too much to do and too little time to do it in. The Watcher, like many others, was in desperate need of a break. She led this time, walking in front of him toward the open, padded room they kept for training. Weapons lined the wall on racks from blunted wooden training weapons to those that had been used in battle. The Slayer’s scythe was kept locked up for obvious reasons protected by magic.

“What’ll it be?” She gestured to the training weapons, thank God. His skill aside, he was no Slayer. He knew better than to choose hand to hand combat.

“Your swordplay needs work, as does your staff work.”

“When’s the last time you fought anyone with a fucking staff?”

“You never know. The improvised weapon is sometimes the only one you have.”

He sighed and gave no further comment, moving to the wall to take down two solid staves from the rack. They were made from solid pieces of oak, tough and dependable. He handed one off to her which she accepted with a look he ignored. Hefting the other, he spun it in his hands experimentally, liking how it felt. Training with Buffy was terribly easy, she took to everything naturally. There was not much he needed to do physically except occasionally correct her form. With Faith he knew form wasn’t going to be priority and no longer tried to correct it. Her style matched his, a street brawler’s combat, more than anything formal. 

She was on him in an instant, pushing, bringing the staff down hard onto his. It sounded with a crack of thunder, he parried, pushing her off to the right and sweeping up from the left, a natural progression. She blocked it before it hit her head, laughing as she hooked the wood behind his knee and jerked, unceremoniously dropping him to the mat. He laid on his back for a moment, blinking, before sitting up. 

“Ah, yes, very good.”

“So, we done here?”

He looked at her, jaw dropping. They’d only been at it five minutes. “You can’t be serious.”

She shrugged. “It’s your bruises.”

He let her launch the attack this time, bringing his staff up to prevent the jab to his side. He managed to hit her arm in return, gratified by the grunt she gave. It was short lived as she delivered a swift combination that he managed to block only in half, the other hit landing on his hip and making pain lance up his side. He didn’t relish the prospect of the bruise he was sure would develop from it, angry and purple. With a growl he let himself let go, ignoring the thoughts of positioning and instruction to just enjoy the fight. He lost himself in the beautiful rhythm of it, the push and pull of combat. Once upon a time he had excelled here. He was glowing with sweat and found pleasure in the feel of languid limbs and aching muscles.

She sent him sprawling to the mat with a surprise hit to his back, ungainly in how he was splayed face first. Rolling over, he panted as he stared up at the ceiling. She came and sat next to him, cross legged, and smiled.

“Give up?”

“Yes!” He chuckled, wincing as it exacerbated some injury he wasn’t consciously aware of. “No more. I don’t think I could take it.”

“Not bad for a watcher.”

“You mean for an old guy.” He sat up, rubbing a welt on his upper arm.

“Nope. I said when we met you were young and cute. I meant it.” She grinned at his wide eyes. “I meant it for a human. You know, not a Slayer, the chosen whatever.”

“I should think I have skills enough to keep up with you, Slayer or not.”

“I’m trying to give you a compliment.”

He frowned. He had other skills he could call on to even the odds but never did. It was easy to accept that he was not a Slayer and had none of a Slayer’s abilities but he was also a talented mage with all the abilities that brought - something that neither Slayer seemed to understand.

“Yes, I know you were.”

“You’re mad?”

“No. It’s difficult to explain.”

“Try.”

He pushed his glasses up and pinched the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed. “There was a time when I was an undisputed badass, you know. Long ago as it was, I still retain those skills.”

“Sick of being invisible, are ya?”

“What?” His gaze immediately shot toward her. “Invisible?”

“Like furniture. Of course you’re there, but you’re not, too.”

She was entirely too clever for anyone’s good, more than they ever gave her credit for. The insight stung. “You think of me as furniture?”

“I might be the only one in this whole building that doesn’t.”

He let the words sink in, trying to figure out any possible way that she was exaggerating or simply teasing him with his fears. No, there wasn’t any way to explain it off. Buffy saw him as safe and reliable, a comfortable chair to curl up in. The newbies saw him as implacable - an encyclopedia of all things strange and demonic. Andrew shared in that notion, willing to soak up his knowledge like a sponge. Willow too. The more he thought about it the more he realized she was right. Not one of them saw him the way he wished to be seen. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, leaning back and bracing on his hands. “If I had the time to I might have a midlife crisis about now.”

“Lucky for us all that you don’t have time.”

“This was the end of the day for me. I might just go home and have a glass of scotch in lieu of one.”

“Same. Mind if I join you?”

“Why not? As you say, you’re the only one that sees me. Perhaps you can explain what you mean when we get there.”

\---

The knock on the door woke him, his head in agony when he sat up. Papers were strewn across his desk that he tried to gather but did more ineffectual swiping than any real tidying.

“Come in.”

He winced at the sound of his own voice as it rang across the room and was surprised to see Xander standing in the doorway when the door opened. Looking at the clock on his desk he realized he’d stayed up later, and consequently slept in later, than he’d wanted to. The young man looked worried, his face drawn, as he stepped inside and shut the door.

“What’s wrong?”

“Faith didn’t come back last night. She didn’t show up to training this morning and she’s not answering her phone.”

“What? Why didn’t anyone wake me sooner?”

“You weren’t answering your phone either. We checked your room and your apartment. Someone said they heard snoring coming from in here.”

He blanched, chagrinned. “Well I’m awake now. What’s the next protocol?”

“Buffy said you might know where she went. We didn’t want to resort to magic unless we had to.”

“I hardly think I know where -” he stopped mid-sentence and nodded. “Do nothing until I return.”

Truthfully she could have been in any one of the broken down dives or seediest bars in the city. She could have been hurt in a cemetery somewhere, picking a fight with something much larger than she was. Self destruction was an impulse they both had in common, he was just more practiced in fighting it. Anyway, he thought perhaps he knew where she’d gone. Picking up a jacket he made his way to the street and hailed a taxi. Taking it to the townhouse, he got out and paid the driver. The sight of it made him relive their shared experience and his heart ached.

He didn’t see any immediate sign of her, opening the door with his key. He noticed the backdoor ajar and went to close it before realizing the lock had been broken and was in need of repair. Sighing, he moved through the house and then upstairs. He found her passed out in what would have been Charity’s room, a bottle beside her that had leaked onto the carpet, half empty now. Even in sleep she was frowning. 

“Darling?”

She mumbled but didn’t wake, curling more into herself with her knees drawn tight to her chest. He picked her up and set her on the bed, shaking his head as he picked up the bottle. It was cheap smelling booze that promised a raging hangover when she did wake. He brewed coffee in that event knowing that no matter how much she might like to, she could not sleep the day away. He soaked as much of the booze out of the carpet as he could with a towel, noting that he would need to ask the cleaning woman to steam clean the next time she came through. He kept the place up with his wealth but hadn’t lived in the house for more than two decades. It was a home for a family, which he didn’t have. 

“Is that coffee?”

Her voice startled him out of his thoughts and he turned. “Yes, I thought it might be a good idea for us both to finish sobering up.”

“How’d you find me?”

“A hunch I followed.”

She got up and shook her head, clearing the cobwebs away. He followed her to the kitchen and let her make herself the first cup of coffee. She took sugar in it usually, leaning against the counter as she took a sip and grimacing. Perhaps a memory from their life that never was, she opened the correct drawer, withdrew a spoon, and dumped in two spoonfuls from the sugar bowl. Swirling it around wordlessly she avoided meeting his gaze and drank down the cup in only a few gulps.

“Buffy send you to find me?”

“Xander did. You never reported in this morning. They were worried.”

“Did you tell them?”

“I told Buffy.”

“Shit.” She turned around and set the mug on the counter a little too hard, the sound harsh for the quiet that came before it. 

“I had to tell someone. She found me where you left. I meant what I said before, about not hiding our relationship anymore.”

“Yeah, but that was personal.”

“I know. If I shouldn’t have I’m sorry for it.”

“No. Fuck. It’s just that everyone’s gonna know now. Buffy’s gonna tell Willow, who’ll tell Xander, and the whole fucking thing is gonna unravel. Secrets don’t keep in that place. All we’ve got for entertainment is fighting and fucking and everyone knows everyone else’s business.”

“I thought you wanted our relationship to be out in the open.”

“I do - but not the wish. Not her.” A long pause and thunderous silence. “So, what’d she say?”

“To which thing?”

“Any of it.”

“She took it rather well, all things considered.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“She’s grown up, same as you have. I think she’s mature enough to handle this.”

“If you say so.”

“Faith if you’re going to push me at arm’s length might I ask that you not? What happened was heartbreaking but we can find a way. I want to find a way.”

“What did she say about that?”

He frowned. “That I was needed.”

“Do you agree with that?” They both knew he did.

“Yes.” He set his own mug down and clasped his hands together in front of him. “But I’m of the mind that if my parents could manage to have a life outside of the calling I can as well.”

“I think it works better when one of them isn’t in the life.”

“How did you know that?”

“You’re not the only one that can read a file.”

“Most of the Watcher’s files were destroyed in the bombing.”

She waved a hand at him. “Willow’s doing this magical recovery thing with Arka and Thorne. You should see the file room. It’s a mess.”

He wasn’t aware they had a file room, let alone a messy one. Everything was usually kept digitally, a format he was still on contentious terms with. The Council had records room stacked to the ceiling in rows that went on for what felt like miles. The underground labyrinth of storage nearly took a map and a rope anchored to the exit to navigate. 

“I know you’re afraid.”

“Afraid? Yeah. Scares me senseless to think about being something other than this. I break people. I’m gonna break you too and it’s fucking batshit that you don’t see that.”

“You don’t have to repeat the sins of the past. You aren’t your mother.”

“No, I made my own fucked up mistakes.” She looked at him and set her mouth in a firm, determined line. “Had a guy in front of me last night in a bar, begging me for it, begging me to leave him sore with just the memory of me to live on.”

The color drained from his face as he listened to her. Stricken, he could only watch and listen as she continued. 

“Had him right there, every bit as drunk as I was. Could’ve drowned my sorrows cause the booze wasn’t working.”

“But you didn’t?” He offered hoping against hope that it wasn’t true. 

“But I couldn’t,” she confirmed. “I couldn’t fucking do it. I saw him and thought about you and couldn’t do it. I wanted to push you away, I tried to, but I couldn’t.”

“Because you love me.”

She nodded, a teardrop falling onto her shirt with her head bowed. 

“That’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“Are you kidding? It gives me something to lose. I don’t wanna be the girl counting the minutes until you come home from a mission. I don’t want my heart to stop every time the phone rings because it could be someone telling me you didn’t make it. Fuck! I don’t want to be the person that needs anyone. Never have been before.”

“It’s hard,” he agreed. “I’ve been doing it for weeks now.”

His voice was quiet with the confession and he didn’t force her to say anything in return. It was simply the truth. He counted the minutes until she came back from assignment. He held his breath when his cell phone rang because it might be the news that she’d been hurt or worse. He knew he had her to lose now and had known for a while. He couldn’t change it and not having her to lose was the more unthinkable alternative. But then, he hadn’t lost everyone he’d ever cared about the way she had. His family life, while not always easy, had been dependable. 

“They call it a leap for a reason, dearest.”

“They call it falling. I’m afraid of hitting the ground.”

“I won’t let you. I’m here, for better or worse. I won’t let you hit the ground.”

“You’d be the first.”

“I know.”

“We’ll never be a Norman Rockwell painting.”

“I don’t need an idyllic life. I want a life with you, whatever that means. You see me, remember?”

He reached for her hand.


End file.
